


Close Shave

by meirenyu



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Crossdressing, Halloween Costumes, Infidelity, Light daddy kink, M/M, Sexual Tension, Shaving, light bloodplay, light gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meirenyu/pseuds/meirenyu
Summary: Rhett loses a bet with Link, and Link is more than ready to help Rhett hold up his end of the bargain.





	Close Shave

Halloween is serious business at Mythical Entertainment. 

Stevie is in full form, ever the hot shot producer, standing back from the set as she watches her minions scurry about with pumpkins, nylon cobwebs and spooky skeletons. It’s taken nearly all morning, but the filming slot for their Halloween special is rapidly approaching, and the set’s taken on a ‘70s cartoonish, Scooby Doo kind of vibe that’s going to make Rhett and Link go all starry-eyed when they get back from their interview across town.

Jen slides in through the side door with the kind of shit-eating grin that immediately piques Stevie’s curiosity. She waves Jen over. “You’re up to something.”

“Not me,” Jen whispers through the side of her mouth, and it’s then that Stevie takes note of the opened FedEx box in Jen’s hands. “Think I found out what Rhett’s going as for Halloween.”

Stevie wastes no time in gleefully ordering, “Hand it over,” and she erupts in poorly stifled laughter when she sees the navy and red and bronze pleather folded up inside. “I’m guessing this ain’t Captain America.” Jen throws her head back in that rich guffaw of hers as Stevie quickly schools her own expression. “Go put it on his desk before you get in trouble.”

To Jen’s dismay, Rhett’s already back from the interview, sitting at his desk when she sneaks into the office. He glances over at her, but the second he notices the package she’s got, he does a double take that immediately worries Jen. 

“It’s yours,” she stammers.

“Then why’d you open it?” He practically barks as he takes it from her hands.

“I open all the packages we receive?” She tries. His glare melts, and he kind of laughs at himself for a moment.

“Yeah, I know,” he says apologetically. “Thanks.” Jen gives a mute nod and turns to leave, not missing for a second the kind of glazed awe that descends on the man as he enthusiastically digs into the box.

 

“He’s in the dressing room,” Alex drones when Link pops his head into the kitchen.

“Who?” Link asks innocently.

“You’re looking for Rhett?” Alex asks, and Link almost wants to roll his eyes, because Alex has gone pink in the literally ten seconds Link’s been standing there. He worries they’re going to need a very uncomfortable conversation with HR in the weeks to come. He decides to worry about that later.

“No,” Link answers him, but he still finds himself at the door of the dressing room moments later. He swallows down a little irritation at how hard it’s become in recent weeks to open doors that separate him and Rhett. The doorknob is cool, and that’s what he tries to focus on when he crosses into the void where Rhett is standing in front of the mirror in a skin-tight Wonder Woman getup that borders on pornographic.

Rhett’s breath hitches, and he whirls around like some cornered rabbit at the sound of Link pressing the door shut behind him. “Jesus, don’t you knock?” He hisses.

Link unabashedly drinks in the image of Rhett, all elevator eyes and lip biting. He’s not bashful. After all, this is his just desserts, Rhett all gussied up like this in pleather that leaves his shoulders and thighs naked. Rhett should have known better than to make a bet that he’d beat him at Chubby Bunny with meatballs. After all, Link's got mouth for days. “Short enough for ya?”

“These things aren’t exactly made for height,” Rhett snaps. Link doesn’t say anything, but the twinkle in his pale, blue eyes says enough, so Rhett demands through pursed lips, “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

Link finally cracks, quipping, “It’s pretty funny, brother. I’m not gonna lie.” And sure, maybe “funny” isn’t the word for it, but Link’s gotten really good at not saying what he means where Rhett’s concerned. He takes in another long head-to-toe gaze before he smirks and pulls a smug face. “Uh, I think you’re forgetting the other part of the bargain.”

Rhett’s lips go all tight, and he gives Link a very meaningful look and practically begs, “Isn’t this enough?” Link just chuckles cruelly and situates his hips against the edge of the makeup table. Rhett glances down at himself, as though only just now realizing he’s standing there with half his ass hanging out of the bottom of his skirt. To his credit, his hands don’t shoot down to cover the metallic navy panties he was only barely able to stuff himself into.

“A bet’s a bet, you little worm,” Link says with point-blank precision. Rhett looks like he just had the air knocked out of him. “And I know for a fact you don’t mind dressing like a girl, so you’re gonna have to…”

“I literally _can not_ bring myself to do it.” 

“Well, you’re just gonna have to,” Link informs him, raising his palms as though to say it’s out of his hands, and Rhett shifts on his feet for a moment as he visibly struggles to find the right words.

“Look, unless you want to do the job yourself…” He says hopefully, like this is his last chance to get out of part two of their little wager. The way Link’s expression changes, he thinks he’s gotten away with the little ruse.

“Okay.” 

“What?” Rhett spits out, not completely sure Link’s not simply calling his bluff. 

“I said okay,” Link repeats himself, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I reckon the ends justify the means.” Rhett stares at him one long moment, mouth open stupidly as he processes Link’s apparently genuine acquiescence.

“You’re a sadist,” he says, slack-jawed. 

“Look, are you gonna chicken out or…” Link trails off, and he looks for all the world like a child deprived of candy. Rhett feels a little queasy when it hits him that Link is really taking him up on it.

“You sure you’re okay with that?” Rhett asks dubiously. “You’re sure you’re fine with shaving me?” Link is a little waylaid by a damning heat stirring low in his belly, so he just shrugs nonchalantly. Rhett swallows hard and licks his lips. He licks them again. “Well, we can’t do it here. Not enough space in the bathroom, daddy long legs.” 

Link chews his bottom lip for a moment before saying, “I’m sure Christy won’t mind if we hog the tub for a few minutes.” 

Rhett gives him a long-suffering sigh. “It’s gonna take more than a few minutes to completely remove my body hair.” Link just shrugs again and heads to the door.

“You coming in that?” He jokes, and Rhett realizes with a jolt that he doesn’t want to take the costume off quite yet. It’s odd and bafflingly novel the way Link’s been staring, even if the only thing he can see in Link’s eyes is amusement. He's just glad the man is looking at him, what with all the awkward side-glances and curtailed gazes he's been weathering lately. He catches himself, throttles the now familiar longing, and waves a dismissive hand at his best friend.

“Gimme a minute.” 

“I’ll be in the car,” Link says, and then he’s gone. Rhett turns back to the mirror, feeling himself as he runs one shaking hand down his side. Now is not the time to fixate on how unbelievably sexy he feels. He begins to undress.

 

“You’re gonna what now?” Christy asks with a long-suffering, dry kind of humor. She’s standing in the living room, taking a break from folding the pile of clean laundry on the sofa. Jade is zipping through the hall, barking like crazy.

“Tell him this is stupid, Christy,” Rhett implores her, and he’s torn, part of him wishing she’d call a stop to the whole foolish affair and another part yearning to see what kind of story flickers in Link’s eyes when they’re alone in the master bathroom, the two of them. He expects the look would be one of bemusement or disgust, but he thrums with the silly fantasy that he’d see something else tagging along somewhere in the deep of those pale, blue eyes.

“Tell him he can’t weasel out of it now, Christy,” Link laughs, and Rhett’s only too grateful at being distracted from the path his thoughts are straying down, the one that torments in whispers of what else Link could be thinking as he’s pressing a cold razor to Rhett’s soft skin.

“Tell him he’s being a jerk, Christy,” Rhett asks again.

She opens her mouth to speak, but Link butts in with a “Tell _him_ he’s being a baby, Christy.” This time she sighs. She’s got a look that clearly says she’s weary of their bizarre shenanigans at this point. 

She starts folding a fluffy towel and groans at Link, “You and your wife can go figure this out on your own. Leave me out of it.” Rhett has the fleeting thought that it’s stupid to feel so sunshine-y at being called _Link’s wife_. It’s ridiculous, really, that she’d call him that. Utterly silly, but she did, and he's glowing like an idiot all the same.

And it doesn’t change the fact that moments later, Rhett’s standing in the master bathroom upstairs, heart racing as he studies his face in the mirror. All around him, the room is dusted with little touches of Christy, a ruffled valence on the windows, a print of a lazy beach scape, unused decorative soaps in a shabby chic soap tray. Link stands in the doorway, having changed into a pair of sweatpants, rolled up to the knees. He’s just watching Rhett watch himself, and then Rhett realizes with a sense of absurdity that he’s now openly watching Link watch _him_ watching himself. He needs to sit down. At some point, maybe when they were asking Christy’s permission, this whole thing has gotten super weird, and Rhett has no clue how to talk himself out of it without Link being a total dick about not holding up his end of the forfeit. He sits on the rim of the tub, and Link takes that as an invitation to enter the room and start rummaging around the cabinet under the sink for a pack of razors. Rhett nervously glances at the open door.

“Were you raised in a barn?” He jokes in a tight voice, and Link looks over his shoulder, not comprehending Rhett’s sudden shyness.

“You afraid of getting caught or something?” He asks incredulously. Rhett worries the heat in his cheeks is starting to show.

“I mean, if you wanna explain to Lando why you’re shaving Uncle Rhett’s armpits, be my guest.” Rhett dries his palms on his tight jeans when Link quirks an eyebrow. 

“He’s seen us do way weirder,” he points out.

“On the show, sure,” Rhett argues.

“How is this any different?” Link fights back, but despite whatever he’s thinking, he shuts the door anyway. The click of the lock sends a little zing of apprehension through Rhett’s tense core. “You ready to get this over with?”

“ _No_ ,” Rhett groans, but Link ignores him, pulling a chunky jar out of the shower stall behind him.

“Best get those pants off, brother,” Link orders, “unless you need me to strip you, too.” The thought is too appealing for Rhett’s comfort, especially now that they’re in the house Link shares with his actual wife. As the seconds pass, Rhett realizes he should be a little pissed that Link’s making jokes like that at his expense. He bites back.

“Oh, my god,” he blusters in mock outrage. “Are you flirting with me, Link Neal?” He expects Link to roll his eyes and play along, but there’s a shift in the atmosphere, and he realizes that Link’s grip on the jar has grown rigid.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies a little too forcefully, and then he looks away to clear his throat. He busies himself with drawing the bathwater as Rhett dutifully wiggles his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks them off into a ball to join his socks and sneakers on the linoleum floor. The thunderous flow of water fills his ears, cooling his nerves, and he counts to ten in his head. This doesn’t have to be weird. He’s almost convinced himself that the whole thing is perfectly normal, but then he’s torn from his thoughts by Link knocking over a shampoo bottle. The resounding clatter nearly scares him out of his skin.

“Jesus,” he hisses, but when he turns to chew Link out, he can’t help but follow the man’s gaze down to the shiny panties Rhett had left on as a passing whim. He’s suddenly brimming with the defensive urge to explain he’d gone commando earlier that day, and it was either the panties (which did little to shield his groin) or it was nothing at all. He’s ready for Link to make fun of him, to joke that he takes the whole femme thing too far. Link says nothing of the kind.

“Where do you wanna start? Legs?” His voice is dry, but he doesn’t dare clear his throat. 

“Good a place as any,” Rhett answers blandly, and Link practically jumps to action. He unscrews the jar, and Rhett watches him scoop out a handful of grainy goop. He gestures for Rhett to turn around, to put his legs in the tub, and Rhett nearly comes unglued when Link slides up next to him, one hand resting on the small of his back where his shirt’s ridden up while the goopy hand reaches down and starts rubbing rough circles into his shin. “The hell are you doing?”

Link murmurs, “You have to exfoliate before you shave. Helps prevent ingrown hairs.”

“How would _you_ know?” Rhett scoffs, already feeling a little bit cross and light headed at the sensation of Link’s hands on his body. Link is too close, and he smells of musk and skin and fresh sweat. 

“Christy likes it when I shave her legs for her.” It’s barely a whisper, and Rhett realizes with a surge of adrenaline that Link is blushing and fighting off a little smile.

He finds his voice somehow and dares to ask, “And you like shaving her legs?” 

“There’s something to it, I guess.” It isn’t really an answer, but Rhett doesn’t miss the way Link’s breath issues forth all shaky and quiet, or the way Link stays so focused on rinsing the sugar scrub from his legs. Rhett doesn’t let on that the sensation of warm jets of water and Link’s strong fingers sliding against his sensitive skin leave him feeling just as jittery and mute.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Rhett says half-heartedly, and he thinks with a sinking feeling that Link will agree, but Link sets the line of his jaw and reaches for Rhett’s ankle, pulling one long leg up to rest atop his knees. Rhett hates how good it feels to be guided by Link’s strong hands, to be spread open like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He's twisted enough to enjoy the fact that the panties aren't completely covering him. He’s noble enough to feel guilty about it.

Link presses the razor to Rhett’s ankle and drags it up through the sparse leg hair. Rhett watches intently, a little thrilled with each passing moment that leaves his leg smoother. Link rinses the blade in the warm water that’s pooled around their bare feet, and a burst of his shorn leg hair flurries about in the tub. Rhett says nothing when Link rubs his thumb over the hairless patch for a long moment. He seems lost in thought, but he eventually snaps to. Higher and higher, he shaves. Rhett tenses as Link navigates his bony knee, but before long, he’s nearly brushing his knuckles over Rhett’s groin as he shaves almost to the man’s bikini line.

“Ho, brother!” Rhett lets out a breezy laugh. “You go any higher, and it counts as foreplay.”

Link licks his lips, not stopping. “Who’s flirting now?” His voice is warm and low, and Rhett grows a little hot around the collar.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mumbles. “If I was flirting with you, you’d know it.” He thinks that’ll be the end of it, that Link will get embarrassed and start working on the other leg, but Link seems keen to throw out the script.

“Is that so?” He chuckles, shifting up the leg band of Rhett’s panties, exposing hip. “For example?” Rhett’s stomach gives an unhelpful lurch, and he grips the edge of the tub for support.

“For example,” he answers breathlessly, his words falling out in a tumble, “I’d show you the bra that matches these panties.” 

Link hums something like warm honey and husks back, “So, you’re a slut, huh?”

Rhett knows Link is fucking with him, expects him to go all red and shy, but he’s no shrinking violet. If he’s honest with himself, he knows this is the best he’s gonna get from Link, so he takes the bull by the fucking horns. His voice is husky as he purrs, “Yeah, I’m a slut, Daddy.”

Link’s hands falter, and his grip tightens where it’s holding Rhett’s panties out of the way. He looks up into Rhett’s wide eyes with a devilish, if shell-shocked grin. “Yeah? Wanna show Daddy just how bad you can be?” Link glances down at Rhett's mouth, and raw panic enters into the mix as Rhett feels his cock starting to respond to Link's silly little game. This is all too confusing for his oversexed body, and he breaks eye contact with the man. 

The moment passes. Link slides Rhett’s panties back into place and shifts them both around until he’s starting on Rhett’s other leg. The silence is tense and deafening, and Rhett needs to kill it. His idiot brain only supplies a muffled, “That was weird.”

Link doesn’t answer, but Rhett just knows he must be thinking the same thing. He finishes Rhett’s leg, but he's stopped only halfway up the thigh this time. Rhett almost suggests he goes higher, to even it out, if only for the fleeting rush of Link messing with his panties again, fingers straying against his balls, brushing aside his pubes. Link catches Rhett mid-thought, and by the stain of red rising in Link’s cheeks, Rhett knows the man’s reading his mind.

“Armpit time, brother,” Link grunts, kicking off the edge of the tub until he’s standing up before Rhett, looking down on him with feral eyes. Rhett’s heart stutters, the intensity of that gaze no doubt a direct result of his own transgressions, his flirting, his lingering eyes, his pounding heart. He doesn’t blame Link for getting pissed.

“I guess I should take off my shirt,” Rhett whispers tentatively. Link rubs at the nape of his own neck, breathing carefully.

“Yeah, I guess you should.” Neither man moves for a while. Rhett is acutely aware that once his shirt is gone, he’ll be sitting there, locked in a bathroom alone with Link, wearing nothing but tiny, shiny panties and a guilty expression. His pulse rises in his throat, makes it hard to breathe and damn near impossible to swallow that saliva flooding his mouth at the thought of what he'd do to Link's little body, if only he gave the word.

“You care to-” He starts to say, quickly losing courage. Link’s lips part, and he sways a little, and Rhett blunders on, “You wanna help me out with that, Daddy?”

Red creeps up Link’s neck, and his lips are tight when he nods fast and murmurs, “Mhmm.”

Rhett watches his face hard for any tell that this isn’t a game anymore. He agonizingly finds nothing. Link’s fingers brush along Rhett's soft abdomen as he slides the shirt up, tossing it onto the floor to join the rest of Rhett’s clothes. Whether the touch is intentional or not, Rhett fights a warm shiver.

“You’re not wearing the bra,” Link notes blandly, and his face has gone peaked as he very obviously schools his breath.

“You sound disappointed,” Rhett quips, and he’s kicking himself for being so obvious, especially when Link is playing everything so close to the chest. Link makes a noncommittal sound and reaches blindly for the razor. Rhett turns around and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror now, sprawled out on the edge of the tub, his legs smooth and hairless, his cock and balls almost popping out of his panties. His heart roars to life when he catches Link’s reflection eyeing him closely, drawing his lip between his teeth. Rhett damn near moans at the wishful thought that he’s _affecting_ Link.

“Lift up,” Link whispers, grabbing Rhett’s wrist and resting his large hand up on his own shoulder. He braces one hand against Rhett’s shoulder blade as he lifts the razor to the sparse hair on Rhett’s armpit. Rhett knows Link can smell him, musk and sweat and deodorant. Link’s eyes almost flicker shut. Rhett wants to scream as his whole body thrums with a sort of low-grade fever, but Link seems oblivious as he sets to work.

“You’d be surprised,” Rhett says through a hitch in his breath, “how good this feels.”

“Yeah? You like this?” Link chuckles, and his laugh is throaty and low. Rhett realizes he’d give anything to just be able to ask, _Do you want me? Is this a thing we can do with each other?_ But he’s wise enough to know he’s only seeing what he wants to see in Link’s eyes and breath and touch. It’s wishful thinking, no matter how badly it’s turning him on. And it’s really, really turning him on.

“Um,” Rhett sighs, palms all sweaty as he searches for an excuse for what’s happening in his tight, little panties. “Fair warning… I’m, uh.” He can’t seem to get enough air, and it’s making him lightheaded. Link pauses, searching the man's grey eyes. “This is making me hard. It’s not you, it’s just…”

Link’s eyes flicker down to Rhett’s lap, and he looks like he's about to bolt. “Yeah, I know,” he whispers. He clears his throat and licks his lips. “It’s okay.”

“You’re okay with this?” Rhett begs, and he wishes that Link understood every single facet of the question.

Link smiles. “Hey, wires get crossed sometimes, buddy.” Link goes back to work in silence, and Rhett makes the idiot mistake of glancing at their reflection in the mirror again. His cock is more than a little hard. It’s rigid and red and peeking out of the top of his panties, the cockhead slick with beads of precome, and he can’t help it when a high, fretful moan billows forth like steam from a kettle.

Link slides his free hand across Rhett's back, holding him perfectly still as he whispers, “Calm down, Rhett.”

“I’m sorry,” he pants. "This is so embarrassing.” Link shushes him, dropping Rhett’s arm from his shoulder and moving around to his other side, bringing Rhett’s other arm up to rest on his shoulder. Rhett can’t help himself anymore. He grips Link’s shoulder hard. “Link, I’ve gotta tell you something you don’t wanna hear.”

“If you say another word,” Link hisses, “I’m walking.” Rhett clamps his jaw tight. He feels like crying, coming, combusting. This is torture, but he’ll endure it as long as it means Link’s touching him. He knows this chance won’t come again, not now that he’s humiliating himself, and even though Link is being cool about it, Rhett knows a line has been crossed. He can think of a hundred more lines he’d like to cross, but he's not currently feeling so self-destructive.

His armpit is bare now, Link making the last few swipes of the razor, when Rhett feels a little sting there and winces. Link curses under his breath, setting the razor aside as he straddles the edge of the tub next to Rhett. “Hold still,” he mutters, and Rhett sees stars the second he realizes Link’s burying his face in Rhett’s pit, nuzzling as he laps up the tiny bead of blood there.

“Oh, _Christ_. Fuuuuck,” Rhett groans as Link’s tongue works little circles all over his bare pit. He tries not to imagine the little whiskers of hair getting in the man's mouth, because it seems that's a new kink Rhett's going to have to unpack later. He has to dig his nails into his thigh to keep his hand out of his panties. “Link, _please_.”

“I said to shut up,” Link gasps, jerking himself away from Rhett’s armpit, mouth damp and hanging slack as he fights for air. His eyes are blown wide, and he’s looking up at Rhett in a way that nearly makes Rhett come right then and there.

“What’s happening?” Rhett sighs, trying his best to ignore the way Link’s sweatpants are tenting proudly.

“Will you shut your fucking mouth for five fucking seconds, or do I have to shut it for you?” Link growls. 

It hits Rhett that the only thing separating Link from his family right now is a thin bathroom door. He struggles to care, and Link snarls as he snatches a decorative hand towel off the nearby rack. He balls it up and shoves it in Rhett’s little mouth, and Rhett’s pretty sure the only thing that’s keeping him from coming _right now_ is the need to see just how far Link takes this.

“Get on the counter,” Link gruffly orders, and Rhett scrambles up from the tub, a real feat given the way his cock is straining against shiny polyester. He plants his ass on the countertop and spreads his legs. Link comes after him with the razor and a feverish gleam in his eyes. He shoves Rhett’s legs together and climbs up onto the counter, pressing Rhett’s naked back against the cold glass of the mirror as he straddles his thighs.

Rhett can feel the cloth in his mouth growing soggy, the way he’s salivating at the sight of Link’s heavy cock pushing through his pants against Rhett’s belly. Rhett can’t help himself as he digs his fingers into Link’s narrow hips, aching to roll Link’s hips forward, to feel the man’s cock jabbing into his soft tummy. Link knows exactly what Rhett’s thinking, and he slides his hand up Rhett’s chest until he’s loosely grasping Rhett’s throat.

“Hold still,” Link hisses, and Rhett nods, straining to look down as Link begins shaving the hair from his chest. 

He whimpers when Link drags the blade near his nipples, but Link’s hand is steady, precise, and within moments, Rhett’s chest looks practically prepubescent. Link wipes the smooth expanse clean and sets the razor aside. He bites his lip when he gazes down hungrily at Rhett’s cock jutting up, his panties mostly useless at this point.

“Do you want this?” He whispers harshly, sinking his hand into Rhett’s wild hair. Rhett whimpers and nods so hard he nearly cracks his head against the mirror. Link’s fingers tighten, and he yanks Rhett’s head back as he leans forward and whispers in Rhett’s ear, “Can I touch your cock?” Rhett feels tears burning in his eyes. For Link’s sake, he’s trying real hard to be quiet, but the man’s not making it easy for him.

Link rips the hand towel from his mouth and tosses it aside. Their mouths collide, and Rhett’s sure the tears have begun to fall because this is too good, too mind blowing, too unreal to be happening. Link’s mouth tastes like heaven, and before Rhett's brain can catch up with his body, he feels the man’s hot, slick fingers slipping up his panties. He moans, and Link snarls as he shoves his fingers into Rhett’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, baby,” he growls, and Rhett swallows around his fingers as Link does some kind of magical maneuver, sliding his own hard dick up the leg hole of Rhett’s panties until their cocks are nestled firmly next to each other. He presses his palm down hard on the slick polyester covering their cocks, and with a shaky breath, he starts to piston his hips against Rhett’s, rutting their cocks together until Rhett’s legs are trembling and it’s all he can do to suck on Link’s fingers and try not to pass out.

Rhett’s seeing stars. He’s so fucking close. His belly is a twister of fireflies sparking white heat that sears in his balls. Link rides him, hips pumping erratic now. He knows they don’t have long, but it feels like eternity with their foreheads pressed together, watching each other fall to pieces as their cocks slide hard against each other. His balls tighten. Just a little more. Just a little harder. He needs it so bad. He’s on fire. He can’t fucking stand it.

A sharp knock on the bathroom door sends a waterfall of shock over him, and when Christy calls out, “You boys almost done in there?” he comes so hard, he’s sure his soul has been rendered from his body. Link’s mouth falls open and his head falls back, and before Rhett can even draw a breath, Link’s hand falls away, and a rope of jizz shoots up from under Rhett’s panties, then another, then another, all landing obscenely in wet, pearly slashes across Rhett’s smooth chest.

“Be right out,” Link somehow manages to choke out, and a moment later, the two men hear her retreating footsteps. Link collapses against Rhett’s shoulder, gasping.

“Do you think she heard?” Rhett pants in his ear.

“No,” Link gasps so gentle and sweet, and Rhett slides his arms up and around Link, kissing the crook of his neck. Link tenses and pries himself away from Rhett. As he stands, he wipes himself off on the hand towel and shakes himself back into his sweat pants. Rhett watches, increasingly queasy.

“Maybe next time we can get a room somewhere,” he offers hopefully in hushed tones.

“Best clean yourself up,” Link mutters, reaching for the doorknob. He looks back at Rhett briefly, before he whispers, “This don't change anything, okay?”

But Rhett knows immediately that this changes everything. Halloween night is going to be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me in [my swamp](https://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com).


End file.
